Rowan and Phoenix
by SiriuslyPeeved
Summary: AU: Sequel to Unwritten. Snape and Lily unravel the mystery of Melora Spring's scar while dealing with the upheaval caused by Voldemort's apparent defeat. Bellatrix shelters Draco and plans her revenge. 10/2013: Beginning work on this story again! SSLE
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **The Potterverse belongs to its original author, J.K. Rowling, and to her publishers worldwide. The OCs and the plot are my own inventions.

**Author's Note: **You're going to want to read _Unwritten _(M, see my bio) before you begin, as this picks up directly where that tale leaves off.

Thank you to all the readers & reviewers who enjoyed _Unwritten_, and welcome back to my AU wilderness. Also sending a shout out to the Reviews Lounge, Too for just generally being awesome. (and also to my good friends from HPFF, TGS, and Gluttony!)

I hope you enjoy the story, and as always, I really appreciate hearing from readers and often put your constructive criticism to use!

**Prologue**

Hogwarts, January 1982

_Fire-blackened timbers lay on the sodden ground, remnants of a burned house never rebuilt. Slush lay in the depressions between the logs, pasty gray in the dim winter twilight. A black grouse picked its way carefully through the fallen twigs and leaves, searching in the hedge for the remnants of last year's berries. Slipping between the henpecked feathers and the grouse's warm skin, feeling the down close in and the sweet thrum of the creature's rapid heart - a push - a constriction of awareness. The bird flapped its wings in idle confusion._

South_, came a gentle suggestion, _down from the mountain. Down where it's warmer.

_The bird did not understand. Its head jerked backward and it squawked with fear, running on foot down the boulder-strewn slope, over heaps of snow-covered oak leaves, down to the humans' gravel path and the stone bridge over the wide, rushing stream._

* * *

><p>"South," panted Melora Spring, the Druid's daughter.<p>

Severus Snape removed his wand from the girl's temple. Her pale red hair was cropped close, leaving a nearly bald patch around the lightning scar. The cursed wound throbbed and seared, burning ten degrees hotter than the rest of her body.

Lily Potter bent down at his elbow. "What's she talking about?"

"I'm not sure. I believe she's having hallucinations." Melora's breathing eased at last. Severus rose stiffly with great effort; both legs had fallen asleep in the hours he knelt at the girl's bedside. Lily extended her hand to help him up.

"That's all she ever says: 'South.'"

"It has to mean something."

Lily turned to the sideboard, uncovering a silver dish of steak and kidney pie gone cold during their midnight vigil. She slid half the pie onto a clean plate with a fork and knife and pushed it at Severus. "You have to eat."

Severus's lip twisted, but he took the plate and sat at the end of a vacant bed, shoveling in sustenance without concern for appearances. Lily finished the other half of the meal herself, wiping the plate clean with a slice of bread. Condensation still stood on the cold surface of a pitcher of pumpkin juice: Lily hated pumpkin juice, but she was so thirsty, she didn't care.

With her stomach full and the lights dimmed in the Infirmary, Lily's eyes drooped where she stood. "You could go home," said Severus.

"I can't. I'm responsible for her."

"And why, precisely, is that?"

Lily bristled at Severus's professorial tone. Next, he'd be asking where she'd left her laboratory report. Sometimes she wondered whether he really saw her as a friend anymore, or as an incompetent assistant he'd taken on as a favor.

"Severus, Melora lost everything because of me… because of both of us. If you hadn't taken us to Wales, Myra would still be alive today, and Melora would be just fine."

"You can't tell me you actually regret knowing Myra."

"No, of course not. I regret being responsible for her death."

Severus raised his wand and Lily flinched, her hand falling to her wand pocket out of instinct. He merely Vanished the dirty dishes, sending them back to the house-elves' scullery with a silent puff of air.

"It's not even one hundred percent clear that Myra is dead."

"You and Dumbledore both!" Lily burst out. "What is the matter with you? I know she was like a mother to you, but honestly, Severus, can't you accept that she's gone?"

Severus turned away, striding across the Infirmary with little concern for the noise his heels made on the stone floor. Impulse dragged Lily after him, but she resisted, gripping the corner of a tightly made bed as she sat down. She crushed the heels of both hands into her eyes and watched dim streamers of red and blue glide across her vision, bursting balloons in the midnight black.

Severus was right; she should go home. Her family home in Godric's Hollow lay in ruins, so she planned to care for Melora at the forest cottage in Wales. Lily needed to make sure Melora's house was ready for a toddler and an invalid; the Death Eaters had demolished the ancient oak door and part of the front wall. She didn't know whether she could reset the wards that made the house invisible within its spelled rowan hedge, but she wanted to try. Myra had reams of yellowing Muggle composition books in her library, each filled with mystic scrawls. Lily had only taken one term of Ancient Runes in school, but she could muddle through with a syllabary.

Peter could have reset the wards in a twinkle; the ratlike little man was a genius with protective magic. James would have been able to master it, given time. Lily gasped at the renewed shock of her loss. It was happening more and more often: the horrifying realization that James was gone, would always be gone, and that Peter, whom she had once loved like a brother, was responsible for his death. As Harry grew up, he wouldn't even remember his father except through snapshots and stories. That was the worst part - knowing that James would someday be only a story, only a framed picture of a laughing man with crooked glasses.

"Lily, I'm sorry." Lily's hands fell away from her eyes and she blinked to clear her vision. Severus knelt before her on the cold stone floor. "I've been unfair to keep you here."

"I wanted to stay."

"I know." Severus reached forward and covered her balled-up hand with his warm, broad palm. What a betrayal it was that her body responded so quickly to his touch. She was a faithless wretch to feel this way for anyone with her husband barely three months in the grave. She hiccupped back a sob, which thankfully, Severus misinterpreted. "Go down to Minerva's and get some sleep. The crisis has passed for tonight."

"Aren't you going to bed?"

"I can sleep anywhere." Severus gestured to the empty bed beside Melora's. "I'll set a charm; if anything happens, it'll wake me. Poppy will be up around five anyway."

Lily rose slowly, staggering a bit with exhaustion. Severus steadied her. "Harry will be up early. I'll check in with you after breakfast if I haven't heard anything."

"It's going to be all right."

"I hope you're right."

Lily glanced back at the emaciated girl in the hospital bed, a shadow of the lively teen she had befriended in Wales. Melora appeared far older than seventeen; the Dark curse had drained her. Melora's dull strawberry-blonde hair tangled in sweat-soaked clumps where Lily had brushed it out only that morning. Something terrifying was happening to Melora Spring, and Lily and Severus were powerless to stop it.


	2. 1: Godric's Hollow

**Disclaimer: **The Potterverse belongs to its original author, J.K. Rowling, and to her publishers worldwide. If you don't recognize it, I probably made it up.

**Author's Note: **Please don't go any further without reading _Unwritten _(M, see my bio)! The author leaves a trail of cookies to tempt you back to Volume One. Or, are you the same kind of person who habitually reads the first page of the second book in a series? If so, I can't stop you, but neither can I guarantee you'll have any idea what's going on! ;)

I had also forgotten that James and Lily had a cat…

**Godric's Hollow**

**February 1982**

Sirius Black panted under the weight of an enormous cardboard box. A stuffed snowy owl tumbled out of the top, bounced off Sirius's head, and landed on the brown grass. Harry's froggy, infectious laugh made Lily smile.

"Lily, I'm sorry you never found your cat."

His friend sat on the stone step and leaned back against the doorframe. Harry sat down at her feet and played with his owl. "Oh, Sirius, thank you. I feel terrible, I forgot all about poor Stanley. I'm fairly certain he was outdoors… on Halloween night."

Sirius noted the false nonchalance in her voice. How about _"When Severus kidnapped me and Harry and made you think we were dead?"_ That would have been a bit more accurate. Sirius was still ashamed of how berserk he'd been, and he was relieved Lily hadn't been around to see it.

"Don't give up yet. Maybe put an advertisement in _Witch Weekly._ I bet somebody took him in for the winter. That happens a lot, you know. People let strays inside in the winter, and then when the weather gets nice, boot them right out again. Regulus was always trying to take in stray cats, but I kept letting them out; Merlin knows what could have happened to a cat at _our_ house." He chuckled morbidly.

Lily didn't answer; her green eyes stared vacantly at the shattered upper floor of the cottage where Harry's nursery once stood. The stone cottage was only partly standing, shielded from the winter elements by a few very clever charms. You-Know-Who sure could throw a tantrum when he put his mind to it.

"Lily, you have to give me one more chance to talk you out of moving to Wales. We could fix this house, you know. You don't have to live in the back end of nowhere."

"It would take weeks to get this place habitable. Melora needs to be in her own home where it's quiet."

"You've got gobs of gold in the bank. I know some guys who could get the house done in a week, tops."

Harry scampered across the dead lawn, tripped, and fell on his face. Lily moved to scoop him up, but the little boy sprang to his feet and ran in uneven circles around his mother.

"Sirius, the money's not the point. If it were just us, I'd come home in a heartbeat. This is for Melora."

Sirius knew he'd never change Lily's mind about taking over Melora's care. James told him that his wife had to be managed in a certain way; everything had to be _her_ idea, and the process of planting an idea in her head was both risky and intricate.

_"You see,"_ James once said on a summer evening, setting down his beer glass and putting his bare feet up on the kitchen table, _"Lil's brilliant, obviously, but highly subject to flattery. You just have to manage her the right way and she'll never know it. She thinks I'm a little deficient, to tell you the truth."_ Peter and Remus laughed. Lily, heavily pregnant at the time, lumbered in and smacked James in the back of the head.

Sirius smirked at the memory and put the box down. Harry immediately rushed to the top and started flinging his toys. "_Colloportus!_" The box flaps sealed themselves together and the toddler squealed with frustration. "Sorry, I'm not picking them up again. Twice was enough."

"Sirius," Lily reprimanded. "My neighbors are Muggles."

"Huh, maybe it won't be so bad after all if you're living in Crazy Hermit Witch Central. Just don't go turning into one yourself, all right?"

"You're a bloody git."

"You love it."

"Bloody git!" sang Harry, jumping up and down on the dead grass. "Bloody git, bloody git!"

Lily's face went white at first, then a violent shade of rose that clashed with her hair. "Sirius _Black!_"

"You said it, not me!" Lily swatted at Sirius with an open palm. "Seriously, you're going to have to clean up your language, Mummy. Harry's like a parrot these days."

Lily captured Harry and redirected him toward the cottage. "He's more like James every day. I shudder to think what he'll be like when he's two. And three? Heaven save us."

Sirius hugged Lily close with one arm. Harry ran up to them, tugging on their hands to be picked up. "You know I love you both: just please, please be careful. Are you sure you're qualified to take care of that kind of curse on your own?"

"Melora's conscious now; she's doing much better. I'm only an owl away from Poppy and Severus if I need help. Professor Dumbledore said he'd consult with us any time."

"All that groaning and screaming in her sleep… it gives me the creeps, Lil. That won't be good for Harry to listen to all night." Lily started to interrupt him but Sirius plowed forward. "I know you're a mum now, but you don't have any serious background as a Healer."

"Will you stop? Melora is _my_ responsibility. I'm the closest thing she has to a family right now."

"No, that's Snape… If you count 'her dead mother's apprentice' as family," Sirius amended.

"All the same!"

"And that's something _else_ you're going to have to watch out for!"

Lily shot a warning look at Sirius as she swung the eighteen-month-old up on her hip. "Come on, Harry. Let's go inside. The Floo movers will be here any minute."

"Lily, I'm sorry."

"Listen, I'll Owl you when we're settled. Come up for tea next time you're free."

Sirius exhaled a sigh of relief. "Sure. I think we've got a free weekend in March. That ought to give you time to get the place ship-shape."

"James would be really proud of you, you know." Lily's voice was raspy. He closed the distance between them and put his arms around her, kissing her cheek. "And Dorcas too… the poor woman, I can't believe she's still in Azkaban. God knows if they knew half of the stuff Sev and I did, we'd be right there with her."

Sirius really didn't like the way Lily spoke of Snape. _"Sev and I…" _Ugh. It made him feel like he'd just thrown up in the back of his mouth.

Lily walked him inside and closed the door so he could depart without alarming the neighbors. Even though the house wore Disillusionment and Muggle-Repelling charms, Lily adhered strictly to proper mixed-neighborhood etiquette.

"Dumbledore still hasn't gotten them to drop the charges?" Lily asked.

"Not yet. He's too noble to bribe anybody or it'd have all been done ages ago. Dorcas and Hagrid could have eloped to Spain by now." Sirius grinned. "Did I tell you what Dumbledore said when I told him I was going into the Auror program?"

"No!"

"He said Mad-Eye owed him fifty galleons and a box of Custard Creams. Guess who bet I would never, ever get a real job."

Lily's laughter was the last thing Sirius heard as he Disapparated.

Seconds later, Sirius dropped into Hagrid's dooryard. At Hogwarts it was snowing horizontally, and the wind blew his old black work robes almost up over his head. "Holy mother of Gryffindor!"

"Get inside, Black!" Hagrid roared from behind the thick oak door. Teeth chattering, Sirius swept his robes around him before they took off on their own like a skinny, underfed Dementor.

It took Sirius about half an hour to warm up by the fire. Hot tea with a generous pour of brandy helped stop the shakes. "I can't ever remember getting a snowstorm like this when we were in school."

Hagrid poked at the fire. When the massive man turned around, Sirius noticed how pale he was and how much weight he'd lost. Even his beard looked thin.

"Yeh, this's one for the record books, even the Fat Friar says so." Hagrid snuffled. "Gotta be real cold over to Azkaban. I sent Dorcas a fur blanket last week fer her birthday, an' they sent it right back to me, same owl. Real rude note with it, too. Blighters."

"Hagrid, you can't send birthday presents to Azkaban."

Hagrid blew his nose. "I'm not stupid, Black, but I thought I'd try. Everybody knows Dumbledore's tryin' to get 'er outta there as quick 'as he can. Isn't 'e?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." Sirius wished he could wholeheartedly agree, but he just couldn't say so in front of the sorrowing Hagrid. He drained his tea and Hagrid refilled it, adding another measure of apple brandy.

More and more, it seemed like Professor Dumbledore was following a master plan that had little to do with the Order of the Phoenix. Admittedly, You-Know-Who had vanished during his duel with Myra Spring, and the Death Eaters scattered like spiders from a feather duster. There wasn't much for the Order to do other than pass tips to the Ministry and testify in the endless succession of trials. Still, it felt like Dumbledore ought to be doing a whole lot more to get Dorcas out of prison. She was a tough old bird, but even the toughest mind would crack in Azkaban with Dementors all around and not even a Patronus to scare them off.

Sirius sighed and lay his head down on his elbow. Hagrid gave his shoulder such a hard pat, his jaw cracked on the surface of the table. "I think I'm gettin' a puppy," he said out of the blue.

"That's great. It'll give Dorcas something to look forward to."

"That's what I was thinkin'," said Hagrid with false cheer as he began washing the dishes.


	3. 2: The North Sea

**Disclaimer: **The Potterverse belongs to its original author, J.K. Rowling, and to her publishers worldwide. If you don't recognize it, I probably made it up!

**Author's Note: **The inn is based on a real place I where I once vacationed in Switzerland, but it wasn't a wizarding establishment…. at least I don't think so! In real life, it's a very nice, family-friendly bed and breakfast with great food. (PM me if you're going to Switzerland and I'll send you the name of it!)

I won't give any more warnings about going any further in this AU without having read the previous volume. Pinky swear! Hope you enjoy it, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

**The North Sea**

_Darkness. Blinding white light. Between the two, tearing, ripping, excision._

_Great tree trunks snapped, wrenching apart as if torn by a cyclone, but no wind stirred. In the sky, her own ghostly face shone alongside the moon: it was the end of the world._

_Explosions. The ground cracked, falling in. If she were dreaming, she would hit the bottom and wake safely in bed. The sides of the pit crumbled all around her and the trees toppled down, the ground slipping past her, exposed stones and worms and roots rushing by faster and faster and the pit caving in. Her lungs filled with soil and gravel, choking on debris. Darkness._

Dorcas's eyes opened. Awakening was worse than her dreams. Wandless, without even her silver spectacles to shield her eyes and pull the world into coherence, she was utterly alone.

She had stopped marking the days; she had nothing to mark them with save her fingernails on her dry skin, and the little white marks wore away within a day, leaving a clean slate. Perhaps she had been in Azkaban for a week. Perhaps a month. The tiny arrow-slit windows let only a bare minimum of chilly twilight into the cell: a mixed blessing, for while Dorcas continually stubbed her toes in the dark, at least the cold winds of the North Sea were partially kept at bay.

_You are Dorcas Meadowes. Ex-Auror, Order of the Phoenix. Friend of Minerva McGonagall, friend of Albus Dumbledore_: Dorcas took a drink of stale water from the metal cup on the floor and spat. Fat lot of good Dumbledore's so-called friendship had done her thus far. _Friend of Sirius Black. And Rubeus Hagrid…_ Dorcas pushed her strength forward once more, enveloping the tatters of her self-awareness and pushing the shredded thoughts back together by force. _Rubeus's friend, and more than that if he'll have me, if I survive this._

One terrible day, Dorcas had thought sure she heard Rubeus's voice bellowing in the prison yard below: far down at the bottom of the hollow stone prism of Azkaban, shouting as if he'd tear his throat apart.

"Dorcas! Don' give up! I'm comin' for yeh! We'll get yeh out of there! Ouch, get that bloody thing off me, you hag… Dorcas!" Dorcas ran to the window and screamed. Only the Dementors heard her. In tattered black shrouds, they floated closer and closer to the window, drawn like thirsty vampires to her soul's blood. Dorcas no longer looked out the window. She kept as far away from it as she could, terrified to glimpse the trailing garments of the wraiths in the sky.

Dorcas curled under the small wool blanket on the damp mattress and wished she could cast a wandless charm for warmth. She didn't have the strength anymore. When she was a little child and had not yet received a wand, she could do anything she dreamed up. Teach her kitten to sing? Done. Bounce on the surface of the lily pond behind her grandmother's house when no one was watching? Done.

Dorcas remembered the slick feeling of walking on wet lily pads and the tiny green frogs leaping away from her dancing feet. Her childhood games were closer than the explosion, clearer than Lily Potter throwing herself between her son and Voldemort, more vivid in her memory than Myra Spring's sacrificial fire.

If Dorcas left Azkaban alive, if she ever again saw the inside of the courtrooms at the Ministry, where she had brought so many Death Eaters and criminals to trial, she already knew what she would say in her defense; she would tell the truth.

_I knew what I was doing when I used the veritaserum. It wasn't Riddle's fault; he was merely a fly on the wall, repeating my words to Malfoy. I'm not ashamed that it was my idea. Harry's all right. Lily's all right. Nothing else matters._

_If Riddle was right about me, let him be right; damn him to hell… Perhaps I'm already there._

_Malfoy is dead, but Narcissa is here somewhere, I saw her when we came in... I hope their boy is safe. I couldn't take a child's blood on my conscience, even if his father was a Death Eater._

_At least Harry's all right. Lily's all right. If I'm still alive, Rubeus cares for me_… _Harry's all right. I saved them._

The night-dark sea roared at the base of the nightmare tower. Under the thin blanket, Dorcas repeated her heart's meditation over and over until she fell once again into a restless sleep.

* * *

><p>"Draco! Come back here at once!" The silver-blond child stepped unhappily from behind a drooping cutwork-lace curtain, where he had been watching the goats at play in the barnyard outside.<p>

The innkeeper leaned out over the high, polished counter and smiled at Draco. The toddler immediately fled to his aunt's side, burying his thin face in her sable cloak. "And this is your son, Madame?"

"No!" snapped Bellatrix Lestrange. "He is my nephew."

"What of his parents?"

Bellatrix drew her wand. "Silence!" The innkeeper stopped and goggled at her, his baby-blue eyes wandering off to either side. "It is none of your concern. The boy and I require a room for the night, a hot meal both now and at daybreak, and a separate bath."

The innkeeper's wife looked frightened. "My Lady, please," she said in a thick Swiss German accent, "We don't have separate baths in our hotel… only in our family apartment."

Bellatrix exploded. "You surely do not expect _me_ to share with the unwashed cretins who show up here to see the sights and ride the Muggle cable cars? Do you expect me to bathe a child with a queue forming outside the door?" The innkeeper opened his mouth to object. Bellatrix leveled her wand at his throat. He lifted his hands and his wand fell from his palm, rolling across the shabby antique desk. "I require your family quarters."

"Hans!"

"Mathilde!" The innkeeper never took his eyes from Bellatrix's wand. Sensing she had won, she shook back her raven curls with self-satisfaction. "Prepare our apartment for Madame… your last name, please?"

"Walpurgis. Madame Walpurgis." The Knights of Walpurgis – her beloved's first followers. So many had fled: cowards. The Dark Mark lay quiescent under her skin; Bellatrix prayed that meant he was not entirely dead. Bellatrix had stayed in England only long enough to collect her nephew from Malfoy Manor and steal back her own house-elf from Rodolphus before fleeing for the Continent. She did not know whether the Dark Lord had been found. She did not care whether Rodolphus or Rabastan were captured. All that mattered were Draco and revenge.

The innkeeper settled Bellatrix at a long, tilting wooden trestle table in the empty dining room. He poured steaming chocolate into a china cup and set it fearfully before her, spilling some onto the saucer. He poured a second cup for Draco, but she snapped at him. "This will scald him! Bring him a cup of milk!" She waved furiously with her wand, making the bric-a-brac on the carved shelves tumble to the wooden floor and shatter to pieces. The innkeeper ducked his head. "Surely with all of these stinking goats and cows and vermin about the place, you've got to have fresh milk!"

"Yes, Madame. Immediately, Madame."

Bellatrix settled back in her chair and let a smile creep onto her face. She had finally made the proper impression on the imbecile. Perhaps she would be comfortable enough for the evening, but she would not be staying long. The mountain village was barbarous; she would have preferred to rest in luxury in Interlaken, but she did not yet wish to risk discovery.

Bellatrix's imbecilic house-elf stood uselessly by the table, pleating her ragged skirt in both hands and staring at Draco as if he were a ghost. Posey had been acting peculiar ever since Snape had brought his Mudblood toy to the castle. Perhaps Narcissa was right, and Lily Potter _had_ given her a severe crack to the head.

"Posey!" Bellatrix cracked out.

"Madame?"

"Find yourself something useful to do. Go into the kitchen and see how quickly you can get our supper on the table."

Posey snapped into action, her butter-toffee-colored hair whipping behind her. Bellatrix was satisfied; if she could say one thing about Posey, the little monster was very quick on her feet. The little wretch was also surprisingly deft with Draco, possessing tireless patience for the toddler's preferred amusement – dropping things from his high chair onto the floor. Bellatrix's full lips twisted with impatience. She loathed that particular game, but it kept Draco quiet and gave the nervous house-elf a useful occupation.

Draco wandered again to the window, tugging back the lace curtains with his fine-boned little hands: so like his mother's. Twilight fell on the snowy alpine slopes: the sun gently touched the knife-sharp stone peaks and slid like golden syrup into the next valley to the west. Goats grazed just outside the door. A gray-coated kid nuzzled up to its mother and began to nurse, its tail twisting with greedy enthusiasm.

"Mama," Draco said, turning to his aunt with sorrow and confusion.

"I will take care of you, my Draco. I will save your Mama," said Bellatrix, gripping the little boy's shoulder. He whined at the feeling of her pointed fingernails, and she relaxed her hand. She often forgot how small he was, how fragile. He was so like his mother. Bellatrix did not know how to care for a child, but she would keep _this_ child safe and make him grow strong.

Bellatrix remembered being as small as Draco, cuddling in Narcissa's room with their nurse and an old copy of the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. She remembered brushing Narcissa's silky blonde hair on her wedding day, adorning the bride for her beloved: taken, gone, dead. Even though she had hated him for marrying her sister, for being higher in her beloved Lord's graces, Bellatrix found that she regretted Lucius's death. She had no one to tease, no one to discomfit.

Outside, the swift winter evening fell across the angular alpine slopes, casting midnight-blue shadows on the snow and on the waterfalls frozen among the stones. The first stars wavered into being above. When the stars aligned, Bellatrix Lestrange would take revenge on Snape and the Mudblood… and on Cousin Sirius as well.


	4. 3: Hogwarts and Snowdonia

**Disclaimer: **The Potterverse belongs to its original author, J.K. Rowling, and to her publishers worldwide. The OCs are mine.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for joining this AU journey. I hope you continue to enjoy it! I'm always interested to hear readers' thoughts and suggestions.

This chapter is shorter than my usual, and the sudden veer toward a direction Snape/Lily fans will probably enjoy was driven by listening to the song "Friend Out in the Madness" by Nanci Griffith. Even though I've frequently sworn off writing songfics... heh. Enjoy!

**Hogwarts and Snowdonia**

**April 1982**

Easter holidays had come to Hogwarts. The laggard Highland spring softened the stark hillsides, and broken clouds let through enough sun to warm the ground, yielding the enticing fragrance of damp earth. Even Severus Snape found his eyes wandering to bright clumps of heather and gorse scattered among the boulders; his conscious mind turned to their usefulness in medicinal preparations, rather than their beauty.

Severus walked behind a herd of chattering children, chastising a pair of snogging sixth-years and pulling a dawdling first-year Hufflepuff back into line. Quietly, he enjoyed the girl's panic as she squeaked an apology and scurried forward to join her friends.

"You're quite cheerful today, Severus," said Minerva McGonagall. "Going away for the holidays, I hear?" He nodded tersely. "You're going to Lily Potter's, aren't you?"

"Melora Spring is still under my care."

"Oh yes, we all know _that's_ who you're going to see."

The corners of Severus's dour mouth turned up in a barely perceptible smile. It would hardly do for the students to see him looking cheerful; they might think they could get away with something.

Minerva pursed her lips. "Lily is very vulnerable, Severus… she's been a widow barely five months. Please don't take advantage of her."

"Is that truly what you take me for?"

Minerva wavered and placed a slender hand on his forearm in apology. Truth be told, Severus would rather be clucked at than shunned; he was relieved that his colleague had surmounted the awkwardness that ensued when she thought he had kidnapped Lily and the baby on the Dark Lord's orders. Minerva's relief at Severus's loyalty was embarrassing to recall: Poppy had had to give her a Calming Draught.

Minerva brightened suddenly. "I nearly forgot, I have something for Harry's Easter." She tapped her wand against her palm and a velvety Golden Snitch appeared. She squeezed the soft toy and placed it in Severus's hand. "Tell the little poppet it's from Aunt Minnie, and that I'll be there to teach him all about Quidditch this summer."

With Hogwarts more than nine years off, Minerva was already planning Harry's sporting career. Severus laughed as the last of the students passed into Hogsmeade station. Two older Gryffindors turned around in surprise at the sound. When Professor Snape laughed, it was generally an extremely bad sign.

"Aunt Minnie?" Severus murmured.

Minerva tapped him sharply on the arm with her wand. "Hush, you. We mustn't ruin our reputations as fearsome Heads of House." A chilly breeze blew off the Black Lake. Minerva tucked her hand tightly under Severus's arm. "I hope you understand where I'm coming from, dear."

"I believe I do."

"Excellent. As soon as we get these vagrants loaded on the train for London, you're free to depart for Wales, and I'll see you first thing Monday morning... _Carrington!_ Step away from the tracks immediately!" The Ravenclaw boy flinched at Minerva's reprimand. "And do enjoy your Easter, Professor Snape."

"You as well, Professor McGonagall."

* * *

><p>"Look, Harry! Look who's here!" Harry Potter clung to Lily's shoulder and refused to take his face out of her rumpled red hair. "Come on, it's Severus! You two used to play together all the time."<p>

"No!" The toddler wrapped his legs tighter around his mother's waist, his bare feet clinging simian-like to her side. Severus's heart constricted at the sight of Lily adjusting the baby's weight on her hip. Gods, he'd forgotten how beautiful she was, even with Potter's cranky, drooling boy-child stuck to her like a thistle.

"Harry's cutting some more teeth. He's been in such a Mummy phase of late; I can hardly put him down. Hence, this place is a disaster." Lily kicked an ancient stuffed bear out of her way as she carried Harry into the bright sitting room. "Put your things in the spare room and come in the kitchen, I've got tea nearly ready."

"Where's Melora?"

Lily's eyes moved anxiously to the greenhouse door. "She's been in the greenhouse all day. She's acting strangely."

"She's recovering from a powerful curse; she's well within her rights."

"She's worse than before."

Severus stepped toward her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Lily faltered. "I wanted to wait until you could see her. I knew you'd charge off in the middle of term if you knew."

Severus's voice took on the calm and quiet tone of particular irritation. "It's been going on for a while?"

Lily's response was stubborn. "I can handle it, Sev."

"Let me see her."

Lily set Harry down on the floor. The little boy howled and clung to his mother's leg, looking fearfully at Severus until she picked him up again. "Be my guest," she said tersely. "She's in the nightshade. Tea's in ten minutes."

_Bloody hell, now I've done it. Maybe I should just give Harry his gift from Aunt Minnie and cut my losses._ Severus reproached himself for fatalistic thinking as he opened the blue painted door to Myra's greenhouse.

The greenhouse felt achingly hollow. The soothing and powerful sense of Myra's presence had gone, and the greenhouse was like an empty grave.

Each of these plants were raised from seed by Myra's Druid hands: the plants and Melora herself were all that was left of his teacher. Severus loved Myra Spring in the way he had never permitted himself to love his own broken mother, and Melora was like a little sister – sometimes a companion, sometimes a source of irritation.

Severus pushed trailing tendrils gently out of his path, dislodging them when they twined around his wrists. Lily had cared for the plants in the greenhouse to the best of her ability, but they had gotten away from her. _Much as Melora has,_ Severus realized as he saw the strawberry-blonde girl sitting motionless in the midst of a jungle of deadly nightshade. Melora's blue eyes were shadowed and bloodshot, her cheeks hollow. Even in the sun-warmed greenhouse, she shivered.

Severus cursed himself. He had failed Myra; he had failed Lily and Melora herself. He should have cared for the girl himself and not let Lily struggle on alone. To hell with Potions, to hell with Hogwarts: to hell with Albus Dumbledore. Severus reached slowly for the girl's wrist to check her pulse. May I?"

Melora blocked him with one hand, clasped the other to the lightning scar on her forehead, and snarled.

"_Traitor!_" she rasped out. The girl leaped up with a sudden rush of strength, knocking Severus to the bare earth floor.

"_Levicorpus!_" Melora jerked toward the glass ceiling, her upthrust foot cracking a square pane into a shattered starburst.

"Where's my wand? _Where is my wand?_" shrieked Melora. "Faithless half-blood! Muggle-loving scum!"

"_Petrificus totalus,_" said Lily softly behind him. Melora's imprecations froze in mid-air.

A theory came to full formation in Severus's mind; he hadn't wanted to consider it, dismissing it as pure conjecture. Melora's ravings cemented it, and he could no longer avoid the truth.

Lily threw her arms around Severus's waist, interrupting his dark imaginings of Dumbledore foaming at the mouth when he brought the news. Startled, Severus dropped his arms around her.

"I should have told you, Sev, I _know_ I should have, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stay here if I did. I've learned so much from Myra's notes. I wish I'd really known her the way you did. I have so many things to show you... I can't quite translate some of the runes she used. Did you bring an older syllabary like I asked?"

"Madam Pince will have my ears if it's not returned in tip-top condition." Severus smiled. Lily hadn't changed since they were children, so curious and enthusiastic. She sounded just like she had when they first started at Hogwarts, when everything was new to her. He lowered his face to the crown of Lily's ruby head and spoke into her hair. "It was pretty bloody stupid of you to try this on your own."

"I know." Lily made no move to leave his arms. She didn't even cuff him the way she liked to. If Severus could freeze time the way Lily had frozen Melora, he would hold this moment. Lily was so real and so warm.

Minerva's admonition stung in Severus's mind. He released Lily gently, placing both hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length. Lily's cheeks and throat flushed bright magenta: she couldn't look him in the eye.

"I've made such an arse of myself."

Severus raised his wand. The spiderweb cracks in the glass ceiling sealed closed with a silent spell. "Maybe just a little bit."

Lily punched him in the upper arm. "Bastard. I'm glad you're here, though."

Together, Severus and Lily lowered Melora to the floor. Lily caught the girl's head in one hand, cradling it as tenderly as if Melora were a child. Severus's mind couldn't help imagining that hand curled around the back of his own head. He forced himself off that train of thought.

"I'm going to take her to bed. When she takes a fit like this, she'll sleep round the clock. Poor thing, she was so looking forward to having an egg hunt for Harry." Severus followed her, wondering at the idea of the curse-marked girl hiding Easter eggs.

Harry was not at all pleased to see Severus at the table when Lily rousted him out of his playpen for tea. The toddler kicked and yelled, refusing to be buckled into his high chair. "You stop it this instant or no treats," said his mother.

"Treat?"

"Mummy made a cake."

"Cake!"

Severus's mouth twisted in a smile. The boy's vocabulary had certainly expanded in the months Severus had been working at Hogwarts. Lily tried to coax her son into taking a bite of shirred eggs – one of Severus's favorite dishes. Something inside him flipped over to realize Lily had remembered.

_Lily would be that thoughtful for anyone. She invited you to check on Melora because this is the only time you could leave work before the end of term._

_But she remembered the eggs. Her mum used to make them, and you said you'd never had anything better. She hugged you: not because she was glad you weren't dead, just because she wanted to. Because she needed to._

"…I'm so glad you've come this weekend, Sev. It's been so bloody lonely. I miss James so much. Some days it's all I can do to just get us all fed.

"I get these flowery letters like 'Oh, Mrs. Potter, we're so sorry for your loss, blah blah, is there anything we can do?' I absolutely hate being pitied. It's like being a stray cat… everyone's clucking at you, and nobody's doing a thing about it. I think people are scared my bad luck will rub off on them… that they'll suddenly be a twenty-two-year-old war widow living in the back of beyond with a baby and a crazy person to take care of.

"You'd think Remus would at least drag his arse back from wherever he's been all this time. No owls or anything… James would've been so angry! I'm about to send Sirius after him."

Lily barely took a breath before launching into her next tirade. Severus listened patiently and polished off his plate of eggs before starting on Harry's portion, which the boy clearly wasn't planning to eat.

"Some babysitting would be nice. Or just sitting with Melora for a few hours so I could take Harry out for a walk in the woods… I don't dare go any further than the garden. Melora is good company when she's feeling well, but some days I'm scared to have her in the same room with Harry… Like today. The way she looks at him when a fit's coming on… Sev?"

"What?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Were you listening to me at all?"

Severus wiped his hands and mouth on the rough linen napkin. "You're afraid to leave Melora with the baby? You _should_ be. I have a theory about the curse, and after today, it's the only thing that makes sense." Lily put her hand to her mouth in surprise, and for a moment, she looked just like her sister Petunia. "Melora Spring is possessed."


	5. 4: North Wales

**Disclaimer: **The Potterverse belongs to its original author, J.K. Rowling, and to her publishers worldwide. The OCs are mine.

**Author's Note: **I've had parts of this chapter written for almost four years, but it was just waiting for the right time to be part of the story. Many of you have been waiting a long time for this chapter... Enjoy it! (I believe the SSLE fans will; even though it's not terribly lemony in flavor, I hope it's adequately suggestive. *evil grin*)

Always welcoming constructive criticism from my readers. Thank you for following along with this sequel!

**North Wales**

Lily dropped her water glass on the table. Harry laughed and splashed in the rivulets running toward his high chair, but Lily made no move to wipe up the spill. "You can't be serious."

Severus exhaled through his nose with a short, involuntary puff of amusement. "Unfortunately, I am."

"Possessed? Sev, that doesn't just _happen._"

The water from Lily's glass flowed to the edge of the scrubbed wooden table and dripped slowly to the flagstone floor. Severus reached over with his napkin and blotted the place in front of Harry dry.

"All the pieces fit together. The ravings – the dreams – acting like someone else when the fits are upon her."

"But who's possessed her? I can't believe I let something so horrible get past me. I thought it was the curse… it's all my fault." Lily snuffled and blotted her eyes on her wide flowered sleeve.

Severus couldn't tell Lily what he suspected, not until he was sure. His instincts led him to protect her even though he knew her fierce strength and courage. He mastered his fear and answered her as calmly as he could. "How could you have known? Dumbledore didn't suspect a thing, and he's spent as much time with Melora as I have since her injury."

"I suppose you're right." Lily smiled as Severus finished wiping the water off the table with the soaked cloth napkin. "Thanks." Lily lifted her wand and levitated the wet napkin toward an overflowing willow laundry basket in the corner.

"What happened to Myra's rules about using magic around the house?"

Lily exhaled heavily. "I couldn't do it. God knows I tried for a couple days… with a baby and an invalid? I've only got two hands."

"And magic gives you a few more. I understand."

Lily smiled. "Myra told me you really kicked back against the house rules when _you_ first got here."

"Naturally. I did enough Muggle cleaning at my parents' house to last one lifetime." Severus leaned back and crossed his ankles, stretching his tired legs under the table. His foot brushed something soft and warm, and Lily jumped. "Sorry."

Lily tucked her rumpled red hair behind one ear. The ghost of a blush receded from her cheeks. _Was that for me?_ wondered Severus as Lily rose swiftly from the table and started clearing plates. He tried to help.

"Sit down. Just act like a guest for once in your life, it probably won't kill you. I'll get the cake."

Lily had baked a lemon cake with poppy seeds; Harry fussed for more when his little plate was clean. "Not a chance. I'll be very sorry I gave you icing at this time of night; it's nearly seven-thirty." She plucked the whinging toddler from his seat. "Say night-night to Sev." Harry only grunted and swung his little fists at his mother's back. "Harry James Potter, we do _not_ hit Mummy. I'll just put him down… he's tireder than he seems. I'll be back in a bit."

Severus leaned back from the table and glanced out the leaded-glass window. Outside, the early spring twilight dimmed over the wooded slopes. Invisible in the trees above stood the peak of the great mountain. Severus was a lifelong skeptic, but he felt the power growing in his bones. The Welsh mountains held secrets as old as Merlin himself; under Myra's tutelage, he had only begun to understand.

Severus opened the front door and sat on the wide stone step where the cool spring air flowed over and past him. It was surreal to be able to sit like this in the open, in the midst of what should have been the enchanted rowan hedge. Lily hadn't known how to reset the protective charms and Melora hadn't yet been lucid enough to help… perhaps she never would be. Severus didn't want to think of the alternative, where the young girl's lucidity foretold disaster.

Inside, Lily sang a lullaby. It was the same Muggle song she had sung to Harry each night in the weeks before Myra's death; before Severus killed Malfoy, before the world shattered to pieces and reformed into this new one he barely recognized.

_This world is better, _thought Severus guiltily as Lily's off-key voice drifted through the thick circular glass panes and into the night air outside. The love in her voice pierced him, even if it wasn't meant for him and never would be. _I would take this world in a second, given a choice._

"It's pretty out here," said Lily, sitting down beside him. Severus moved over to make room for her, but she pressed herself against his side. "It's cooling off, though. I think there'll be a frost."

Severus didn't dare to move; he could barely breathe, or he might frighten her off. Small, furry shapes darted and squeaked in the oak canopy above. "Look, the bats are coming out."

"Oh, it's early in the year for them. Poor things, I hope the bugs aren't all killed in the frost."

"They'll go down in the valley."

Lily smiled and let more of her weight rest on him. He told himself sternly that Lily was only feeling cold, but she turned her face into his arm and stroked her cheek against the woolen sleeve of his frock coat like a cat. His heart stuttered in sudden panic.

"I'm so glad you're here." Severus coughed a little awkwardly, trying to hide the rush of emotion that threatened to submerge him. "No, really. I missed you. Every minute of every day since... since we stopped talking."

"You don't have to say that."

Lily lifted her face from his arm: her eyes were emeralds lost beneath the ocean. "I should have given you another chance. I was just so afraid you were slipping toward _them: _Mulciber and his disgusting friends. Part of me wanted to get it over with because I just couldn't stand it anymore… like ripping off a bandage. It's going to hurt one way or the other, so it might as well be quick."

Severus's chest constricted. "I'm sorry I ever said it." _Mudblood. _"I should have called you anything but that."

Lily giggled, but it sounded like a sob. "What would you have called me instead?"

"Hag," he began, running his fingers down the back of her hand. Lily wove her fingers through his and squeezed. "Harpy."

"Banshee," she suggested playfully.

"Succubus."

"Oh, you wish."

Severus kissed her. Lily curled her hands at the nape of his neck and locked them in his tangled black hair. She broke the kiss first, and he drew away hastily.

"God, Lily, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"Stop acting so bloody sorry for everything." Lily got slowly to her feet, using the square-hewn doorframe to pull herself upright. She extended her hand and helped him up. Hands laced together, Severus and Lily stood in the open doorway, looking up at the darkening night sky through the crossed, leafless branches.

One by one, the stars emerged, shining from so far away and so long ago, they would be gone by the time their light reached Earth. Lily tugged at his hand and he closed the door behind them.

"I should never have let you go," she said quietly.

"You don't have to do this…"

"I do." Lily Potter – Severus pushed her married name out of his mind as far as he could, pushed Potter's smug, bespectacled face out of his memory – Lily _Evans_ held both his hands and drew him to the horsehair sofa by the fire.

Lily pushed him over on his back and settled herself warmly against his chest. Severus rejoiced in the weight of her body on his own, so solid and real. The last time he'd held her this way, she was sixteen – she'd softened and rounded since then, becoming far more than a girl. Her warm scent would likely kill him if he breathed in too deeply: wood smoke from the fireplace, vanilla and lemon from cooking, and the darkly floral fragrance of her hair melded together into something he could not, could never live without again.

Severus's heart and soul already belonged to Lily Evans, but he had managed with great effort to keep his physical desires under control. With Lily herself stretched along the length of his body, encouraging him, he was absolutely lost.

Severus lifted her flowered shirt at the waist, running his calloused hands experimentally over her skin and bracing himself for a slap, for a rejection. Lily murmured appreciation against his lips. He didn't care whether she was only using him for comfort. If in her mind, she was kissing James Potter, he didn't give a rat's arse. He would gladly give himself up; he was like a starving man grasping for breadcrumbs on the pavement and shoving them greedily into his mouth.

Severus's fingers slipped into the slight crescent depressions stretching across her belly; they were stretch marks from the child, Potter's marks of possession upon her very skin. Severus kissed Lily harder than before and tugged at the hem of her blouse, wishing for the chance to see what his own child with her would be like. Her graceful fingers moved to the front of his frock coat and unbuttoned swiftly.

_Don't fly too high,_ warned a voice in his mind, _the ground is far below and strewn with boulders._

* * *

><p>A scream pierced through the woods.<p>

Lily struggled to sit upright. It was pitch black. Was she dreaming or had she heard that scream? Lily moved to the right and nearly tumbled out of the narrow bed. A warm hand steadied her. "Shh. It's all right… Just an owl."

"Sev?"

"Don't worry. Go back to sleep."

Lily settled awkwardly, rolling over to face away from him, and pulled the old linen sheet up to her chin to cover herself. _My God, what have I done?_ A terrible vacancy had swept her up, a need for comfort and companionship so urgent she felt she would die without it, and she had fallen on her oldest friend like a sun struck veela. He'd tried to stop her at first, but she had bowled right over every one of his sensible objections. _Stupid, stupid girl._

At the back of her neck, her lover's breathing suddenly eased once more into sleep. Lily felt a swell of warmth and affection for Severus, but she was only five months widowed. She loved James, would always love him. James was loyal and faithful, kind and forthright: the perfect husband, the perfect father, and now buried.

Lukewarm tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and slid down across her flushed cheeks, dripping onto Severus's forearm and running down to make cold, damp spots on the sheets. Beneath her palm, Lily felt the unmistakable knot of the Dark Mark in Severus's skin. The Mark had receded since the battle, but never fully healed. Lucius Malfoy's ghost spoke in her mind. _"Not dead… only gone."_

When Lily cut Severus Snape out of her life, she knew very well what she had given up. James worshipped her, but he did not truly know her in the way Severus always had. It wasn't James's fault that he didn't possess that soul-deep knowledge – Lily had purposely kept him at arm's length, hoping to avoid ever being hurt so badly again.

_Mudblood: _such a small word and so facetious to Muggle ears, yet emblematic of the division that once cost her Severus's friendship. It was a loaded word, redolent of prejudice and hatred. Lily understood precisely why Severus hated Muggles; she knew Tobias Snape and Petunia… and she knew how deeply Severus resented being a Muggle's son. She'd thought he hated her, too.

Severus's entire body jerked and his arms tightened around her waist. His heart pounded hard against her bare back. She turned over in bed, snuggling guiltily up to the curve in his collarbone and pushing his heavy black hair away from her eyes. "It's all right. You were dreaming."

"I love you."

"Sev?" asked Lily in a tiny voice, halfway hoping he had spoken in his sleep.

"I do. Always."

"Darling, I…"

Severus shifted and rolled on his side facing her. "You've never called me that before."

Remorse threatened to swallow her whole. "I'm sorry."

He drew her close. She resisted, fighting to pull up the covers. Tucked back in, she buried her face against his shoulder. "It's all right. I know it was too soon." She nodded furiously into his shoulder and hiccupped a sob. His dark baritone voice thrummed through his body as he chuckled. "You were very, _very _persuasive."

"Shut up," she said grumpily.

"I'm yours… Do with me as you please."

Lily's breath caught in her chest. "Will you take a leave from Hogwarts and stay with me until Melora's better?"

Severus didn't answer at first, just methodically stroked her loose hair down her back. Her fear grew as she waited – she was sure he'd say no.

"You drive a very hard bargain. Are you sure you weren't a Slytherin?"

Lily blushed. "Sluggy might be able to come out of retirement for the rest of term. I'm sure he could use the money… Sirius said he won fifty Galleons off him a couple weeks ago."

Severus sneezed. "I don't want that slob back in my storeroom. Gods, you have no _idea_ what a wreck he left the place."

"Please?"

"I'll Owl Dumbledore in the morning." Lily smiled.

From the next room, a full-throated wail erupted, the frustrated cry of a toddler who had been whimpering unheard for quite some time. "I've got to go," said Lily reluctantly.

Severus kissed her cheek as she wriggled out of the slender bed. Lily wrapped her old gray dressing gown around her body, pulling the ties as tight as they would go and tying a hasty bow. Somehow, his friendly parting kiss affected her even more than the burning heat of the night before, even more than the incredible power of the connection they had shared. Still confused, Lily went to settle her son.


	6. 5: Snowdonia

**Disclaimer:** Stuff you recognize = all J.K. Rowling's and borrowed with love. Story, plot elements, and original characters: Mine! Mine! (cue the seagulls from _Finding Nemo…_)

**Author's Note:** The beginning of Lily's dream bears a resemblance to Georgia Weasley's lovely one-shot, "Magic Moment." I originally wrote this scene a few years ago, but GW may have inspired me through an eddy in the space-time continuum, because she's awesome like that.

This chapter starts to get into the dark/horror realm, so buckle your seatbelts, folks… Hope you are continuing to enjoy the story!

**Snowdonia**

_Lily pushed her way through the close-grown conifer branches. She was supposed to meet James at sunset… he had something to show her. Strictly speaking, she knew she shouldn't be in the Forbidden Forest at all. She was supposed to be a good example. James was just as bad, Head Boy and trying to lure her out in the forest for goodness knows what. Would he drop out of a tree and scare the piss out of her, or was this some colossal romantic plan to get her to shag him at long last? Lily clamped her hand down on her mouth to hide her laughter._

_Something rustled in the underbrush. With her hand clamped to the wand in the right hip pocket of her blue jeans, Lily turned around. Tree roots and rocks pressed through the thin soles of her old penny loafers. She lost her balance and caught herself against the roughened trunk of a gnarled little Scots pine._

_Another rustle and a crunch of broken twigs – closer this time. "Hello?" Silence. Lily lifted her wand and pointed it into the brush. "Answer at once! I'm Head Girl!"_

_Something large and heavy parted the brush, stepping forward and shaking its slender velveted antlers. It was a young stag._

_Lily's heart thudded with terror. She felt like she was going to run screaming into the forest or throw up on the ground, or both at once. The stag stepped toward her. She lowered her wand and pulled her magic into a tight sphere inside her chest, ready to be unleashed._

"_Lily," said the stag._

"_James?"_

Floating between her dream and reality, Lily remembered. Dead, gone. Prongs couldn't speak aloud.

_The stag moved forward to caress her cheek with his damp black nose. "Come into the forest." Lily's hand moved involuntarily to his shoulder, feeling the fine chestnut-colored pelt beneath her palm. She threw her arms around him, and her half-awake self rejoiced that the dream did not end, that the solid shoulder and musky-smelling warmth did not turn to smoke in her embrace_.

Oh, Gods, let me stay asleep, let me stay asleep this time, this is when I wake up alone and James is still dead…

_Lily walked with her arm over the stag's high withers, stepping carefully along beside him through the bracken. Prongs nuzzled her hair, and she laughed, startling a robin from its nest._

_The forest closed in around them and the standing trees turned to stone, becoming the corners of Myra's bedroom. The narrow bed by the window held a sleeping figure with tangled linen sheets pulled up to its forehead. Black hair, clumped and tangled, spilled out over the pillow. Lily's stomach clenched._

_Severus pushed the sheet down. The stag's antlers were silhouetted in the unrelenting darkness of his eyes. He called her name. "Lily?"_

"_Snivellus!" the stag challenged._

_Severus fumbled for his rowan wand in the bed sheets, but it was gone. Lily clung to Prongs' shoulder, trying to drag him backward even as he advanced on the helpless figure in the narrow white bed._

"_Don't!" Lily cried. "James! Don't!"_

_The stag's muscles shifted under her grasping arms. When he turned his face toward her again, she opened her mouth in a soundless scream. Hollow eye sockets burned red from deep pits in the ivory skull. Tattered velvet hung from the stag's ruined antlers._

"_How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me!"_

"_I do, I do love you!" she sobbed. The skeletal being speaking in James's familiar voice was the worst thing she could imagine. _Wake up, wake up!_ She begged herself, but her physical body was bound in sleep as surely as with a Body-Bind Curse._

"_He's a Death Eater! Foul, evil!"_

_Severus stepped out of bed, partly wrapped in the sheet, which fell to the ground as he walked forward. The rowan wand trembled in his right hand. To Lily, he was achingly vulnerable and beautiful and wanted. She released the skeletal stag and stood between Severus and the specter._

"_You chose him over me," said the apparition in James's disbelieving voice. Before she could say or do anything, the stag's mouth opened and its curved fangs dripped with sticky white saliva. Bare cloven hooves drove toward her chest._

* * *

><p>The pain remained as Lily struggled into consciousness. Her heart and lungs felt as if they were torn out from the inside and flung across the room: the leavings of a vicious animal's kill. The warm depression in the bed beside her lay vacant and a single coarse black hair lay across the pillow.<p>

When Severus returned, Lily was sitting up in bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. It was all she could do to control her breathing so she wouldn't scream and cry and rage.

Lily heard, rather than saw, Severus kneeling beside the bed. A warm calloused hand stroked her sweaty hair away from her burning face. She whimpered.

"Lily," he said gently, "Are you all right?"

Lily's hands clenched at her calves. She wanted to feel his bare shoulders under her palms again; she wanted to kiss him and let the sweet rush of their physical connection sweep her dreams away… but she couldn't.

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Severus was confused.

"You know I care about you so much. I should never have used you that way."

Severus exhaled a short puff of air through his nose, and even though she refused to look up, Lily knew the expression on his face – a sideways little smile of self-deprecation.

"Lily, I told you last night… I'm yours. Use me up and throw me away."

"No," she said with rebellion against the vivid urges that pushed her to do just that. "You deserve better."

"No. I don't."

The finality in his voice tore a jagged hole in Lily's heart. "I'm not a goddess, Severus. You don't have to worship me; you don't have to lay your life and your heart and your soul on the line for me every damned day. I'm just not ready for that. I'm just a person, I'm just _me._"

Only silence answered. Lily lifted her head from her knees. Severus's face rested in his hands. Appalled to think of Severus crying, she reached out to lay her palm on his shoulder. He shrugged away as if she'd burned him. She clasped her hand to her chest like a bird with a wounded wing.

"I'm so sorry I asked you to stay. Please, don't feel like you have to…"

He cut her off. "I understand."

"Severus, it isn't that I don't _want_ to be with you… just not now. Not yet. It wouldn't be fair to anyone, you most of all."

Severus pushed himself up from the floor and dressed. "I'll tell Dumbledore about Melora."

"You're going right now?"

"What sense is there in staying?"

"Aren't you even going to say Happy Easter to Harry?" Lily derided herself as soon as the words left her mouth. _Stupid._

Severus laughed bleakly. "Lily, you can't have it both ways."

Oh, how it hurt her to see the hieratic masks of sarcasm and detachment drop over his features once more. For just a few hours, she had held the real Severus in her arms, the one she knew when they were young: before James, before Hogwarts, before the artificial divisions of Slytherin and Gryffindor.

And now, by force, Lily was pushing him back into hiding. Why? Because it would be wrong to go on the way she had begun; she couldn't take advantage of him that way. As much as she already longed to relive the night, the sun crept steadily skyward and time was passing.

Severus pulled a soft golden object from his battered leather satchel. "This is for Harry. Professor McGonagall says to tell him Aunt Minnie will be up in the summer to teach him all about Quidditch."

"Oh," said Lily, clutching the velvet Snitch to her chest and sitting back down on the bed.

Severus pulled the cuffs of his frock coat straight with quick flicks of his fingers. "I'm sure Dumbledore will be in touch once he hears about Melora. I've got to go into the Ministry and do some reading on possession."

"Where?"

"The Department of Mysteries." Tucking his crumpled nightshirt down into the bag, he fastened the heavy brass buckle.

"Good luck getting in _there._"

"I've got connections," said Severus with a smirk. Lily looked up from Minerva's gift and their eyes met, obsidian and grass green.

"I'll miss you," she said.

Severus wavered. Lily flung the toy Golden Snitch aside- it hovered in mid-air. With two running strides across the bedroom floor, she was in his arms. He kissed her harder than he had the night before, his hands gripping the back of her head like a Dementor siphoning away her very soul.

When they broke apart, Lily blushed. Severus lifted his satchel from the floor with clumsy, shaking hands.

"Please be very careful with Melora. I'm going straight back to Hogwarts to wake that meddling old coot and Poppy as well, if I can get hold of her. Try not to wake Melora until they arrive."

Lily dashed tears out of her eyes and hiccupped a laugh. "Get out of here, Snape."

Severus Disapparated. In the next room, Harry woke at the sound with a frightened cry. Lily had no more time to blame herself or to regret what she had done; it would keep until later.

* * *

><p>After she buckled Harry into his high chair with a cut-up banana and a covered tumbler of fresh milk, casting quick charms against falling and choking as an afterthought, Lily slipped in to check on Melora. The girl lay fast asleep, her face ghostly pale against the white linen pillowcase.<p>

Lily lifted the kicked-off quilt from the floor and bumped into the bed frame. Cursing herself silently, she stepped back as Melora's eyes fluttered open.

"Lily?"

Lily dropped the blanket and sat close beside her. "Oh, you know me today. I'm so relieved, dear."

Melora smiled weakly. "I'm thirsty."

"Of course you are." Lily helped her drink water from a jam jar. "There, that's better."

"My foot hurts." Lily winced, remembering how Severus's Levicorpus spell had flung the possessed girl toward the greenhouse ceiling. Lily had bandaged the heel and applied antiseptic herbs, but she should have checked it overnight. She blushed at the reason she had forgotten to tend her patient as she gently peeled back the dressing.

The wound was closing nicely and bore a healthy color with no sign of infection. The bruise on her heel had darkened in the expected way. "It's doing all right, considering, but no wonder it hurts. You took quite a blow."

Melora rubbed her scar with bleary eyes. "What day is it?"

Lily's vision clouded with tears. Usually Melora remembered her rages, at least in part. Sev was right; she really was much worse. _That bastard always manages to be right_.

"Dear, it's Easter morning. You've been very ill," she said delicately. "I think the curse may be interfering with your memory."

"What?" Melora clutched the blankets in white-knuckled hands.

"Professor Dumbledore is on his way," Lily reassured her. "He'll sort this out. Severus said…"

Melora frowned. "Severus was here?"

Lily tried her best to sound brisk and matter-of-fact. "Yes, he's just gone back to Hogwarts."

"Oh." Melora stared after Lily as she plumped the pillows and turned back the bed covers.

"We'll hide the eggs we colored for Harry later on, when you're feeling better. Are you hungry?"

"I think I'll go back to sleep." Melora turned her face away and closed her eyes.

Lily drew the door closed softly. In the kitchen, banana liberally smeared the table, chairs, and Harry's small face.

"Lovely… Mummy didn't charm anything clean, that's what I _should_ have done." Lily raised her wand. "_Tergeo!_" Harry giggled at the spell slurping the banana puree from his cheeks. Before his mother could stop him, he patted his palms in the mess on the table, joyfully finger-painting. "Oh, you are just dreadful, Harry Potter." She gathered the sticky boy in her arms, burying her face in his warm, banana-smelling hair. "Bath time before Professor Dumbledore gets here."


	7. 6: The Department of Mysteries

**Disclaimer:** Characters, plot elements, and recognizable magic depicted herein belong to the wonderful JK Rowling and her publishers. I'd confess that I made the rest of it up, but that would probably ruin your fun.

**Author's Note:** In which the author has a little too much fun with Dark magic to call herself a Hufflepuff…

**The Department of Mysteries**

"I told you I'm on official Hogwarts business."

Albert Sterritt closed the _Daily Prophet_. "Professor Snape, you know the regulations."

Glossy black tiles edged in impossibly smooth white mortar covered every surface of the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries. From the corners of his eyes, Severus noted his own motions reflected in the walls and floors. His dark voice dropped to a confidential register as he leaned across the polished ebony desk.

"Listen, Mr. Sterritt, I could make this absolutely worth your while."

The Unspeakable chuckled. "That's real nice, _Professor. _There is one thing you could tell me that might change my mind... the location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"The Doge residence, Rowan Lane, Bexton, Cheshire."

The older man flicked at the edges of the newspaper, sending pink rabbit-shaped sparkles wafting from inside the front cover. Clearly a few Easter promotions had yet to conclude in Diagon Alley. "You've overlooked a rather important detail, Professor; when someone leaves the Order, the Headquarters change."

"Professor Dumbledore sent me!" Unperturbed, Albert Sterritt returned to his lazy perusal of the Home and Garden section, turning to an article about dirigible plums. Severus ripped the Visitor's tag from his coat and trod on it as he stalked toward the lift.

_Leaving the Order was childish._

It was my only choice. I couldn't have stayed with her otherwise.

_Is _that_ where you are now? Dunderhead._

Lily sent me away.

_She didn't send you away; you chose to go. She had sensible objections – she was thinking clearly and you were not._

A rueful snort escaped him at the very idea of Lily exhibiting logical behavior when he himself was hopelessly clouded with feeling – the one failing he had always chided her for. Her breath still warmed the side of his throat just below his ear: the angle of her shoulders rose above him in the moonlight. If he stood before her door again, would she be careful and courteous, removed? Would she shout at him, or would she dissolve once more in his embrace?

Severus spent the remainder of the morning in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, ostensibly searching ancient scrolls for references to possession. Try as he might to concentrate, most of his attention lay fixed on what Lily might be doing at that moment. Black was almost surely with her by now.

"You are a vain and ridiculous person."

"I beg your pardon!" said Irma Pince, bundling her pink crocheted wrap around her shoulders.

Severus backtracked. "I must have been reading aloud."

The librarian eyed the illuminated margins of the medieval scroll in Severus's hands. Her squint indicated her opinion of Severus's excuse. "This isn't the treatise you need."

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

His blunt colleague had already moved halfway down the tall stacks in the Restricted Section. She tapped her wand against the edge of a rack holding a thousand tightly rolled scrolls. A tattered specimen slowly descended into her outstretched palm.

"This is extremely rare…"

"I see."

"I can't possibly let it leave the library."

"May I make a copy?"

"It's charmed against copying. You'll see why when you get to the end. Do be careful."

Irma Pince retreated from the Restricted Section with no further offers of assistance. Severus unrolled the crumbling scroll with such reverence, he missed the clicking sound as the librarian locked the spelled cage in which he studied.

The document had to be at least seven hundred years old and of French origin, judging from the rounded script. The scroll was more than a speculative treatise: it was a step-by-step instruction manual on separating a portion of the soul from the body and sending it within another living awareness. This was the kind of magic he had dreamed of as a student, desperate to impress Malfoy into recommending him to the Dark Lord. (In his mind, Malfoy fell to the leaf-strewn forest floor, Bellatrix screaming behind him.) It was the kind of magic his mother had whispered of at his bedside while his father thought he was saying his prayers.

His memory returned to those candlelit evenings in Spinner's End when even the full moon lay shrouded behind coal-dust clouds. Mother knelt by the bedside and clasped his sallow hands in her own.

"_Don't let the Evans girl upset you... she's beneath you. You have a gift… the Prince bloodline reaches back to the warrior kings of Ireland. Come here, darling.__"__ His mother set aside the cracked beaker and wiped her mouth, her lips purplish-red with wine._

_Eleven years old, Severus allowed his mother's kiss. He didn't like to hear his mother talk that way about Lily's sister. Her breath nearly burned his nose as he inhaled. Both his parents smelled that way, like rotten apples lying under the spreading tree by the playground._

"_I don't want to leave you," said Severus awkwardly._

"_Oh, darling. I know… it's nearly September, but Hogwarts is the best place for you. Don't think I didn't see you hexing those houseflies yesterday."_

_Severus giggled. "Sorry, Mum."_

"_Don't be sorry. Just be careful. You know what your father will do if he catches you."_

_At the age of five, Severus's first expression of magic had unfortunately come while his mother was at the market. Severus and Toby Snape were in the weedy back garden enjoying the watery June sunshine despite a blustery wind. A thin branch snapped from the willow tree and dropped toward the little boy's glossy black head. Toby Snape cried out in horror as the twig simply dissolved in mid-air and fell in harmless flakes._

"_What did you do?" Severus's father shouted, grabbing the little boy by the shoulders. Dusty bits of bark and splinters of wood shook from the child's hair._

"_Nothing! I promise!"_

"_Fat lot of nothing! You… made… something… disappear!"_

_Little Severus drew back and wrapped his arms around himself, wishing for the first time with all his heart and soul that he could make his father disappear, too._

His parents' memory flared to sudden life, mixed treacherously with the incantations on the page before him. Severus felt his eyes closing, but only with the barest tendril of awareness did he realize something had gone wrong.

Severus's face and hands twitched as if he were falling into a dream. In his mind, Eileen Prince's voice subtly shifted and lightened. Lily Potter read the dark incantations, detailing how best to subdue a living subject, how to seamlessly enter his or her mind without detection. A fragment of his mind cried out against the juxtaposition.

Lily's bright directness, her self-possession even while she was in pain or distress, her refusal to admit defeat – Severus threw up a shield between his conception of Lily and the malignant scroll. It fought back. Incredible pain wrenched inside his head. He brought his hands to his ears, blocking out a groaning like a dungeon gate grating against a stone floor. Too late, he realized he himself was making the sound.

Frantic, Irma Pince waved her wand outside the spelled wrought-iron cage, releasing the locking spell and banging the gate closed behind her. "Did you damage the scroll?"

Severus trembled where he sat. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"You're a Professor. My job is to help you find what you need to know, not to shield you from the dangers."

"I don't think I appreciated you enough as a student."

Madam Pince chuckled. Even as he shook with violent chills, Severus's wide mouth twisted sideways with black humor. "I don't know why I didn't think to protect myself. I've never worried since I mastered Occlumency."

"That's called hubris, Professor."

Severus left the scroll on the table, imagining it pulsing with stolen life. If what he had gleaned from the scroll matched with what had befallen Melora, he had to warn Dumbledore immediately. He jogged down the broad staircase from the library to the entrance hall, nodding quickly down at a perplexed Professor Flitwick who stood holding a pressed-sugar Easter egg the size of his own head. As soon as he cleared the wards on the castle he Apparated away.

* * *

><p>The girl's body weakened steadily. Each attempt at taking control sapped her strength. He could never hope to make contact with the faithful from this fragile vessel, and yet he was trapped in this shallow female mind.<p>

The girl's memories resembled the brightly colored pages of a tabloid newspaper. Over and over again came the face of the half-blood, lit from the side like the marble statue of a saint. She'd certainly chosen a poor target to idolize: the deceiving bastard, besotted with a Mudblood. _Foolish child__._

In the privacy of his mind – all he had since he was blasted from his body – Lord Voldemort knew he had underestimated Severus Snape. A wave of rage vibrated outward from the core of his being. The Druid girl made a deep sound in her lungs. The Dark Lord pulled back cautiously. It would not do to be detected.

Witches and wizards bustled in and out of the sickroom, trying to soothe his living host. Snape's little Mudblood did most of the nursing herself; not at all surprising, she would ingratiate herself to Dumbledore in any way possible.

"I really think you need to move her to St. Mungo's," an arrogant voice insisted… the blood traitor, Black.

"Sirius," said the Potter wench in a warning tone.

"You don't even know for sure who else is in there. Damn it, Lily, this is too dangerous."

The Mudblood spoke up in sharp defense. "Melora's just a girl."

_Softhearted woman. Why else do you think I latched onto this pretty thing? You'll protect this girl to your dying breath__._

"No, Lily, not anymore."

She pushed Black out of the way and left the sickroom. He felt his human host crying out for her inside, unable to lift her weakened limbs in pleading.

This body was failing. Shortly he would need to find another.


End file.
